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News: I've posted my pictures from Rio de Janeiro up to the last dance in D.C. To view them go to http://brentmeier.multiply.com and continue balk vicariously.

Also, catch up with my sister while she gets ripped off backpacking in Europe at: www.monisue.blogspot.com

We'll always have Paris

Okay, to begin I apologize for my dwindling habit of blogging. Don't be surprised-- have you not met me? So, last you knew I was in New Paltz, NY. Well, old pal EJ arrived for a divine art student reunion of canoeing and catching up over Blue Moons. The next morning Laura and I drove down to Brooklyn (traffic?). I would've helped, but I haven't driven in eight months and wasn't about to reintroduce myself on the B-Q Expressway. We got there after two mix-ups and eight phone calls. Other old pal Melinda received us warmly and promptly we went to a diner. Later we met with her man John before the two larks went to a Meat Puppets concert. Postscript they're doing really well. Laura and I night hiked down Battery Park along the Lower West Side to catch the midnight ferry to Staten Island. She's curious of the scene as many students at her SUNY are trust-funders from there. We hopped off and entered bar number one of said scene. It was karaoke night for the twenty regulars. What the hell, we said and she did a moving rendition of Midnight Train to Georgia and I am no Pip, sorry. But I did rouse a few drunks in my stunningly powerful lyrical delivery of Tupac and Dre's California Love. So we left soon after. Because of normal subway bs we got to John and Melinda's place at four in the morning. The next day we managed an 11:00 subway to Coney Island to catch that heat in it's nostalgic last summer. We hit Central Park for a bit and ran through the MOMA, then topped off our visit with deliciously sloppy soul food next to the Manhattan Bridge. The drive back was smooth and the next morning sad because I had to leave Laura to her new chapter and close out mine. That meant train to Grand Central and immediately after bus to D.C. to chill with Stef. She's a yuppie from Lincoln with whom I share some of my funnest memories. And still knows a good time, we hopped three tight bars. That sounds athletic, but it's actually slang for 'we went to three good bars that were good.' So next day I passed through the Hirschorn Art Museum, the Natural History Museum and the Freer Art Gallery before the West African restaurant and the three-person Cee-lo dance party with Stef and co-worker Lucy. Stef brought me to DCA the next rough morning and I flew to Omaha. I was bundle of nerves from having been gone a record 8 months plus not knowing what to do once I arrived. But I'm fine and thanks for reading. I'll say this: take whatever chance you get to travel. There's nothing like seeing landscapes. Not only geographical ones, but historical and social ones. I've met a bevy of individuals from nearly every region in South America, not to mention people from Europe, Africa, Russia and China; everything from hippie to businessman. My sincere thanks to the Hospitables along the way (I've crashed countless couches, partaken plenty plates) and I invite you keep in touch or better yet do what I've done. Listen to your mossy feet, scrape your hands on foreign turf and squint your eyes at every horizon.

Bueno, para empezar lo siento por no haber escrito tanto. Pero no seas sorprendido--no me conoces? Entonces, de ultima sabias que yo estaba en New Paltz, Nueva York. Pues, mi amigo EJ llego para una reunion divino y una charla sobre cerveza Blue Moon. La proxima manana Laura y yo conducimos hasta Brooklyn (que trancon). Yo le hubiera ayudado pero yo llevo ocho meses sin conducir y no quise reintroducirme por el Expressway de Brooklyn-Queens. Llegamos despues de dos errores y ocho llamadas. Otra amiga amable Melinda nos recibio y de una fuimos a un restaurante. Luego nos encontramos con su novio John antes de que salieron a un concierto de los Meat Puppets. P.T. estan muy felices. Laura y yo andamos por noche tras el Parque Battery para tomar el ferry hasta la Isla Staten. Ella es curiosa de la escena alla porque hay hartos estudiantes consentidos de Staten en su universidad. Bajamos del ferry y entramos el primer bar que vimos. Era karaoke night y dijimos 'porque no?' y ella canto una rendicion onda de 'Midnight Train to Georgia' y yo no soy un Pip para nada. Pero yo si anime unos borrachos en la presentacion poderosa de Tupac y Dre's 'California Love.' Salimos en seguida. Por el jodimiento normal del tren, llegamos al apartamento de Melinda y John a las cuatro de la manana. El dia siguiente tomamos el subway a Coney Island para verla en su ultimo verano porque van a destruirla y construir hoteles. Andamos por Central Park un poquito antes de correr tras el Museo de Arte Moderno con John y Melinda. Cerramos nuestro viaje con comida del sur deliciosa en un restaurante chevere junto al puente de Manhattan. El viaje a New Paltz fue bien y la proxima manana triste porque tuve que despedir a Laura y dejarla en su nuevo capitulo y cerrar el mio. Eso significo otro viaje a Grand Central en Manhattan y en seguida el bus a Washington D.C. para visitar a mi amiga Stef. Ella es una joven muy de negocios y profesional con quien comparto las memorias de Lincoln mas graciosas. Y todavia sabe como divertirse, paramos en tres bares bacanos. El dia siguiente yo pase por el Museo Hirschorn de arte, el Museo de la Historia Natural y la Galeria Freer de arte antes de comer en un restaurante de comida Africana y la rumba de tres personas: Stef, su companera de trabajo y yo. Stef me llevo al aeropuerto la proxima manana de guayaba y vole a Omaha. Yo estaba muy nervioso por haber salido del estado ocho meses, mas no sabia que iba a hacer cuando llegara. Pero estoy muy bien y muchisimas gracias por leer. Te digo esto: toma cualquier oportunidad de viajar que tengas. No hay nada como la vista, pero mas que geografica, la vista historica y la vista social. He conocido un monton de personas de casi cada region de suramerica, mas individuos de Europa, Africa, Rusia y China; todo entre hipie y profesional. Saludos y todo el carino a los Hospitalarios de todo el paseo (durmi en mil sofas y comi mil platos) y te invito a escribirme o mejor dicho, haz que yo hice. Eschucha tus pies ansiosos, rasca las manos por la tierra desconocida y escudrinar cada horizonte.

Homeland Security

Did you know I am afraid of flying? I just don't tell anyone. I was a little jumpy on the plane from BA to Atlanta. It's nothing liquid- or nail clipper-related, just take off, turbulence and landing. I just lucidly realize I'm hurtling through the stratosphere at 518 mph in an enormous metal thing. So, we touched down in New York Monday morning, I wandered around the Grand Central Station area for awhile. I took the train north an hour to Poughkeepsie where my friend Laura is starting grad school. Her first day was actually that day. Well, we spent three hours in the train station not catching up but sitting on different sides and not knowing the other was there. Once that stupid bit was over we went to her country apartment that she rents from some burn-out dance teacher who used to hang with Warhol and Basquiat. She's alright. Tuesday Laura and I visited the lovely Vanderbilt Mansion outside of Highland, then she had class so I poked around the campus a bit. I have campusitis, if grad school happens, it'll be in a while. I already knew that, but the decision solidified in my visiting the grounds. I usually learn more reading slate.com than I did in a classroom. So now Laura has class all day and the neighbor is gone...I was gonna ask him if he wanted to go canoeing. But last night I remembered Evan Green lives in Albany, so I messaged him and he's driving down right now! Gonna go into Manhattan tomorrow to see some art and two other friends.

Supiste que tengo miedo de volar? Nunca lo digo. Estaba un poquito asustado en el vuelo desde BA a Atlanta. Ya te lo traduzco, Laura acaba de llegar y me tengo que ir...

I wanna be a part of BA

Buenos Aires, Big Apple. Well readers, my apologies for not having blogged at all this week. Time has flown and the crowd here stays out really late and I'm forgetful. I pulled in from the overnight bus that left from Porto Alegre, Brasil on Monday. My friend Anders hooked me up with a place to stay so I immediately called but no one was home. I only waited an hour or two before getting through then it was off to Cata's apartment. Nice work on befriending only Colombians, Anders. I feel really at home here (Everyone knows Colombians are cooler than porteños) (Porteños are people from BA and they have stiff upper lips). So at once Cata and I went out to Puerto Madero for a lovely walk that lasted until la Calle Florida which is a pedestrian shopping zone full of leather and tango. Later we met with other Cata, Monica and Tati--two more colombianas and a brasilera. Everyone was laughing because they hadn´t met a gringo who speaks Colombian sayings. Points for me. The following day was more miles of walking, this time in la Boca (tango´s birthplace, kind-of) (Carlos Gardel was Uruguayan if you want to argue) and later in Palermo and historic San Telmo. We went that night to the despedida (farewell party) of an Italian girl who had been studying here and had an incredible apartment in hip Palermo. The following day was more walking mixed with shopping. Cata advised me of a student´s travel agency and essentially saved me a bundle. How much? About six hundo. Seriously, I almost bought a 1200-dollar ticket online out of desperation and deception. So that night we went to Juan´s apartment, yet another colombiano. This one was a musician with an aparment full of instruments and equipment but devoid of much talent. Sorry, I said it. It´s a tough industry, okay? We are now on Friday. Friday was more walking except this time I was lost. Cata and I were going to meet another colombiana (imaginete) but I got separated. I just took a cab to the meeting point. Said point was the Papeleria, a fantastic hipster-run place that sells homemade paper products like sketchbooks and prints. Later I met up with other colombians (duh) while Cata was in class. Like any normal colombians we go out every night so we circuited some bars and I drank my fill of Quilmes cerveza. Saturday Cata and I walked along the paved coast of some river that seemed like ocean it was so big. We finally met up with the colombians and went to a few more places. Now it´s Sunday and time to get out of bed becuase 2 pm seems late and I usually get up at 1. Sidenote, I´m taking the overnight jet to New York! It hasn't hit me yet. One, that I´ll be in New York tomorrow, two, that this marks the end of the South American experience. I have been in this damn continent for eight months. I´m ready for the dollar.

Bueno, amigos, que pena por no haberles escrito. El tiempo aqui ha volado y la gente se acuesta tarde y yo soy distraido. Llegue el lunes desde Porto Alegre, Brasil. Mi amigo Anders arreglo donde quedarme--el estudio aqui hace un año. Llamé pero nadia estaba pero despues de esperar una hora ya llego Cata y me fui de una a su apartamento. Bien hecho, Anders, por solo tener amigas colombianas. Me siento en mi casa (todos saben que colombianos son mas bacanos que porteños). Allá fuimos a Puerto Madero para una caminata linda que duró hasta la calle Florida, una peatonal de shopping llena de tango y cuero. Luego encontramos con la otra Cata, Monica y Tati--dos mas colombianas y una garota. Todas estaban cagando de risa porque nunca habian conocido a un gringo que habla dichos colombianos. El dia siguiente fue mas kilometros de caminando, esta vez en la Boca donde nacio el tango (Gardel era uruguayo si quieres discutir) y despues a Palermo y el historico San Telmo. Aquella noche fuimos a la despedida de una italiana que habia estudiando aqui y quien tuvo un apartamento bacano en Palermo en la parte como ´hip´y artistica. El dia siguiente era de mas caminata mezclada con shopping. Cata me consejo de una agencia de viajes para estudiantes y esencialmente me ahorro seis cientos dolares. Imaginense, casi compre por internet el pasaje de ida en mil docientos dolares por desesperacion y decepcion. Entonces aquella noche fuimos al apartamento de Juan, otro colombiano. Este era musico con el apartamento lleno de instrumentos y equipos pero vacio de talento. Que pena por decirla, pero es una industria dura. Ahora estamos en el viernes. Era de mas caminata aunque me perdi. Cata y yo ibamos a encontrar con otra colombiana pero me separe de ellas. Igual tome taxi al lugar donde ibamos a llegar que era la Papeleria, un almacen bacanisimo de hipsters y artistas quien hacen papel y cuadernos y serigraphes. Luego me encontre con mas colombianos (aparecen en todas partes, no?) mientras Cata estaba en clase. Como colombianos normales, salimos cada noche y fuimos a bares y yo tome mucha cerveza Quilmes. El sabado Cata y yo caminamos por la costa de un rio que se parece el mar es tan grande. Finalmente nos encontramos con los colombianos para ir a otros bares. Ahora es el domingo y ya tengo que amanecer porque son las 2 y estoy acostumbrado de despertarme a la una. Otra cosa, yo volo a Nueva York esta noche!! No lo puedo creer. No puedo creer que estare en Nueva York y tampoco puedo creer que ya se acabo la experiencia suramericana. Ya llevo ocho meses en ese maldito continente. Estoy listo para el dolar.

Hurrying

Well, final days in Rio went well. Actually, they were in Nitaroi which is a separate city. I went on a nice walk with Maria Helena and her boyfriend Ovi. The Niemeyer museum was closed for exhibition change. That´s probably the fourth time something like that has happened to me. Anyway, Saturday we went to a ´hood that looked like Italy (from movies, I guess). We had some great shrimp. I had to go to the airport, so that ate up the afternoon, but then I bought groceries and cooked some supper. The family had a wedding to attend, so I was home alone and watched the Rolling Stones Rock n Roll Circus DVD. Those loons. Anyway, I´m in Porto Alegre now about to take a bus to Buenos Aires, finally!! But internet time is almost up. sorry, update later

Pues, los ultimos dias en Rio pasaronn bien. Actualmente, estaba en Nitaroi que es otra ciudad. Fui caminando con Maria Helena y su novio, Ovi. El museo diseñado por Niemeyer era cerrado por el cambio de exhibicion. Esto me ha pasado como cuatro veces. El sabado fuimos a un barrio que vio como fuese Italia, pues segun las peliculas. Comimos camarones buenisimos. Fui al aeropuerto para un boleto a Porto Alegre.

River of January

Well, last night I went to Vinicius Piano Bar for a spectacular bossa nova show. The opener guy was a beast on guitar and sang some classics, including a bossa version of Stevie´s I Just Called to Say I Love You, which seems wankery but it was actually pretty good and not annoyingly repetitive like it´s original. Act Two was Maria something and her band. She was a hair gimmicky in her set, but all of them were really talented (she has sung with Jobim!!) Side note, this venue is on the same corner where Vinicius do Moraes and Jobim co-wrote Girl from Ipanema. Having come because of bossa, I´m fulfilled. Met a Chilean guy at the venue who was a music nut and had some good bossa history for me. Plus it was good to speak Spanish to Spanish instead of Spanish to Portuguese (they´re close, but it´s pretty hard because of the pronunciation). This morning I took the bus then the boat over the bay to Nitaroi where my friend Maria Helena lives, the lady I met in Cuzco. She was working so her two daughters welcomed me, albeit awkwardly because they´re 15 and 13. But the former brought out her keyboard and Grandpa´s old guitar so I was set for the afternoon. Tomorrow I´m gonna go to the Museo do Arte Contemporaneo, the new Niemeyer building on the rocky coast facing Rio.

Anoche fui a Vinicius Piano Bar para ver un show de bossa nova espectacular. El cantante que empezo era un duro de guitarra y toco clasicas, incluyendo una version de I Just Called to Say I Love You por Stevie Wonder. Se parecia bovo, pero era buena y no tan repetitiva como el original. La segunda presentacion era un conjunto con cantante Maria algo cuya performancia era un poco ´showy´pero igual todos son talentosos (ella ha cantado con Jobim!!) Otra cosa, este lugar esta hubicada en la esquina donde Vinicius do Moraes y Jobim componaron La Chica de Ipanema. De haber venido por la bossa, ya estoy satisfecho. Conoci a un chileno quien es fanatico y el me conto historias interesantes. Tambien fue bien hablar Español a Español en vez de Español a Portugues (son parecidas, pero es dificil por la pronunciacion). Esta mañana tome el bus y la lancha tras la bahia hasta Nitaroi donde vive mi amiga Maria Helena, la señora que conoci en Cusco. Ella estaba trabajando entonces sus dos hijas me llevaron, incomodas un poquito porque tienen 15 y 13 años. Pero despues de que la mayor saco sus teclas y la guitarra vieja de su abuelo, paso la tarde bien. Mañana ire al Museo do Arte Contemporaneo, el nuevo edeficio de Niemeyer que queda en la costa en frente de Rio.

the rio deal

Left from Sao Paolo yesterday after missing the 1.20 bus because I was at the wrong platform. Got into Rio de Janeiro last night at about 9 or 10 and the cabbie convinced me of a different hostel in a safer neighborhood. I went with it, and of course it's one of those with an Addams Family architectural layout and is like the British Backpacker's Embassy. At least no one snored last night. Before bed, I had some caipirinhas at a cheap restaurant full of drunkards passing around a guitar to the two old prostitutes' delight. Don't worry, it was well lit. Today I went to Corcovado to see Christ the Redeemer. More impressive is Rio's landscape. And the thought that I swear that was Dame Judi Dench's sister in line in front of me. The landscape anyway is the north region and the south region, both bordered either by forest-covered mountains or the Atlantic. My hostel's in Copacabana, next to Ipanema. I've heard of a girl from there. I'm pretty sure I'm here because of Joao Gilberto and Stan Getz. Everytime I step outside, I start humming that song. Or singing the Sinatra Cheese version with his New York accent. Gonna check the da Vinci exhibit at the museum tomorrow, then shoot across the bay to the Nitaroi 'hood where my friend lives.

Sali de Sao Paolo ayer despues de perder el bus de 1.20 por estar en la plataforma equivocada. Llegue anoche a las 9 o 10 y fui a otro hostal segun el consejo del taxista. Por supuesto es un edificio con pisos como fuera la familia los Addams. Tambien es otro Embajada Britannica. A lo bien, nadie ronco anoche. Antes de acostarme, tome unas caipirinhas en un restaurante barato lleno de borrachos tocando y pasando la guitarra a la felicidad de las prostitutas viejas. No te preocupes, estaba con mucha luz. Hoy fui a ver Cristo el Redimador. Mas impresionante es la vista de Rio y de hecho lo juro que vi a la hermana de Dama Judi Dench. Pero la vista es las regiones norte y sur de Rio, completamente rodeada por montanas y el Atlantico. El hostal esta en Copacabana, el barrio al lado de Ipanema. He oido algo sobre una garota de aqui. Lo juro estoy aqui por Joao Gilberto y Stan Getz. Cada vez que salgo para afuera, empiezo a cantar la cancion esa o la version por Frank Sinatra con su acento nueva yorkeno. Vere la exhibicion de da Vinci manana y irme tras la bahia al barrio Nitaroi donde vive mi amiga.

terça-feira

That´s Portuguese for Tuesday. Well, I´ve been absent-minded about blogging, which is perfectly normal for me. Saturday night Isabel and I had some nice pizza with two of her friends. They ditched and we met two more friends at a samba bar whose name I´m told translates roughly as ´Good Reason.´ Good as any. There was a guitar player on both of two floors, the bottom being samba and the top being musica popular Brasilera. I love that one guy is playing a guitar and singing and everyone was dancing. Just like Nebraska, I know. I´m looking into that. Sunday was other-wordly. I got out of bed, Rodrigo asked me if I was hungry. We got into the car and 10 minutes after lowering the visor to block the low-hanging sun from my eyes I realized the sun was low-hanging. I wondered if it was morning...´What time is it?!´ It was a quarter to six. Which is fine, I guess. We went to the most amazing restaurant thus far. Brazil has these ´running skewer´style restaurants where guys weilding 2-foot skewers loaded with anything from raw cow (recommended) to cooked cow to chicken hearts to lamb do circuits around the tables. That´s always great, but the buffet at this place has more color than Rogers and Hammerstein. They had four kinds of sushi in the buffet. It wasn´t any good, but I let it slide on argument of variety. I couldn´t identify anything more than the rice and the chicken but I guess I ate squid, octupus, cheese, weird plants, casseroles, pig and more cheese. If you know me you know I was happy. Then I went home and watched a chick flick. It happens, alright? Monday was another limbo day because I got up at one (couldn´t sleep the night before from being awake like four hours) and had plans to see some sights and go to a museum or two. Well, this dandy apartment has a two-sided deadbolt. I mean to say you need the key to escape, said key wasn´t left for me. So I was trapped ´til about 4.30 by which time after finding an ATM, eating and taking a traffic-cab, the museum was closed. But I walked around for a long time. Don´t think I completely wasted my afternoon...I watched Dick Cavett clips on youtube for hours. If both Clive James and my dad recommend Dick Cavett http://www.slate.com/id/2159367/ you know he´s good. Well, I see key, I´m going.

He sido distraido por el blog, que para mi es perfectamente normal. Sábado por la noche Isabel y yo comimos pizza buena con sus amigos. Ellos se marcharon entonces encontramos con dos mas amigos en un bar samba que se traduzca mas o menos a ´Buena Razon.´ Como cualquier. Hubo un guitarrista en ambos pisos, uno de samba en la planta baja y de musica popular Brasilera en la segunda. Me encantó que con solamente un guitarrista cantando todos bailan. Como fuera Nebraska. Intentaré cambiarlo. Sunday fue extraño. Me levanté y Rodrigo me preguntó si tenia hambre. Entramos el auto y despues de diez minutos de colgar el visor para que el sol no entrara los ojos, me dió cuenta que el sol estaba muy bajo. Seria mañana?...´Que hora es?!´ Faltó un cuarto para las seis. Pero bien, creo. Fuimos a un restaurante espectacular donde los meseros andan con el carne en el palo. Siempre me gusta esto, pero el mejor fue el buffet que tiene mas color que una chompa Boliviana. Habian cuatro tipos de sushi, en el buffet. Bueno, no eran bien hechos, pero lo permito de parte de la variedad. No pudí identificar mas que el arroz y el pollo, pero comí calamari, pulpo, queso, plantas raras, caseroles, cerdo y mas queso. Si me conoces, sabes que yo era feliz. Regresamos al apartamento y ví una pelicula de mujeres. Esto pasa. El lunes fue tambien como ´limbo´porque me levanté a la una y media (de haber estado despertado como cuatro horas no pudí dormir) y tenia planes de caminar y ir a unos museos. La puerta en este apartamento tiene el seguro de ambos lados. Igual, uno necesita la llave para salir. Esta llave no me dejaron Rodrigo o Isabel. Entonces era secuestrado hasta las 4 y media. Después de encontrar un cajero, comer y tomar el taxi-trancón, el museo ya estaba cerrado. Pero caminé y ví mucho. No pienses que perdí todo la tarde, yo miraba videos de Dick Cavett en youtube. Si Clive James e igual mi papa le recomiendan http://www.slate.com/id/2159367/, sabes que es un duro. Bueno, veo la llave, me voy.

Sao that´s it.

Yes, I pulled into Sao Paolo yesterday at noon thirty, tired after two nights of buses and not sleeping well. My pack is getting heavy and I don´t know why, I haven´t bought too much stuff. Actually gravity increases the further south you go and the toilets flush up. After thirteen ATM machines I finally got one that spat cash and I got the first cab downtown. I chose the Plaza Hotel, showered finally, napped finally and walked around a bit. My friend Isabel called me back and I ended up not staying there but instead at her friend Rodrigo´s apartment, which is quite nice and high up. Before that we went to a restaurant with some of her friends and I had some chicken hearts and chicken stomachs. Not for the chicken-hearted. Except today I have a stricken stomach. I slept in, then walked around after lunch. I heard some music and peeked into a mechanic shop--there were three guys singing and playing guitar, accordion and a homemade drum. I watched them for a while, it was great. They sucked, but the best things in life you don´t pay for. There isn´t a font big enough to describe how enormous Sao Paolo is. It´s the business capital of South America and it shows by the horizon to opposite horizon of building-forest. I´m on the 24th floor and all I see is buildings until the fog (and smog) blur the edges. I don´t remember Mexico City being half this size, but there the population´s meat is mostly slum; this place is spread like Sunday´s paper. Isabel´s gonna look for a samba party tonight, whatever that is. I´ll go to Rio (6 hrs by bus) on Monday.

Bueno, llegué a Sao Paolo ayer a mediodía, cansado por las dos noches en buses sín dormir bien. La mochila pesa más sín explicación, no he comprado tanto. Actualmente, la gravedad aumenta lo mas sur que estas y los inodoros fluyen pa´arriba. Después de trece cajéros finalmente salió el efectivo y tomé el primer taxi hasta el centro. Escogí el Plaza Hotel, me bañé finalmente, durmí finalmente y caminé un poquito. Me llamó mi amiga Isabel y me quedé en el apartamento de su amigo Rodrigo, que es lindo y alto, en vez de en el hotel. Antes de esto fuimos a un restaurante con unos amigos suyos y comí corazones de pollo y estomagos de pollo. No son para gallinas. Pero hoy tengo el estomago afectado. Me dormí hasta mediodía y caminé después del almuerzo. Oí música, entonces miré en un shop del mecánico y vi a tres tipos cantando y tocando guitarra, accordión y bateria hecho de mano. Eran malos para tocar, pero fue fantastico. Para las mejores cosas en la vida no hay que pagar. No hay un fonte suficientemente grande para describir como tan enorme es Sao Paolo. Es la capital de negocios de Suramérica y se nota por la horizonte hasta la otra horizonte de bosque-edificio. Estoy en el piso 24 y solo veo edificios hasta que la neblina (y contaminación) borran el borden. No me acuerdo la Ciudad de Mexico siendo tan grande como acá, pero la mayoridad de la población allá es getto; aquí la propia ciudad es tan grande Oscar Niemeyer estaría perdido. Esta noche Isabel va a buscar una rumba samba, sea como sea. Iré a Rio el lunes, seis horas en bus.

out of asunción

Finally I escaped the whirlpool of relaxed hospitality and good conversion rates. Brazil I guess actually has an economy intact, since one dollar is like two reias, rather than 5 thousand Paraguayan Guaranis. Bade farewell to my caretakers after a day of napping (I was a hair hungover from a birthday party) and took off for Ciudad del Este last night. Didn´t sleep much on the bus, probably three hours. The guy in front of me was snoring so I moved but I was still on a bus so I couldn´t sleep. Tonight I´ll sleep on the bus for sures, I did the early morning tour of Foz do Iguaçu and am tired. Foz was amazing. Though I´ve never been, Niagara´s gotta be like Gameboy next to the Wii that is Foz or something, or maybe like seeing a big waterfall compared to seeing a huge elaborate system of waterfalls. That´s it. Dag, I took a lot of pictures, got back in to town, had a veggie-mite meal at some health restaurant and now I´m waiting for the 6 o´clock outta here to Sao Paolo. I´ll check in later.

Finalmente escapé del ciclón de relajamiento hospitalario y cambias de monedas buenas. Supongo que Brasil actualmente tiene una economía porque un dolár es como dos reias, no como cinco mil guaranías. Despedí a las cuidanderas después de un día de siesta (estaba con guayabo por el cumpleaños martes) y fui a Ciudad del Este anoche. No durmí mucho porque un hombre estaba roncando. Cambié de puesto pero todavía estaba en un bus entonces no pudí dormir. Esta noche por supuesto dormiré en el bus porque fui al tur de Foz y tengo sueño. Foz era espectacular. Aúnque nunca he ido, Niagara debe ser como Gameboy en comparison con el Wii que es Foz o algo así, o de pronto como ver una caterata grande al lado de ver un sistema de cataratas grandes y elaboradas. Ya. Miércoles, saqué muchas fotos, regresé al centro, comí vegetariana y ahora estoy esperando el 6 para salir a Sao Paolo. ´ta luego

Nutty Sunday

Nothin much today, mates, just got up at noon again. I was thinking about going to the terminal to shake on out of Asuncion, but then my pseudo-aunt legal guardian person said we were to have lunch at her sisters. So I went and it was good, then her brother-in-law took me around for a Sunday drive with Asunción anecdotal history and a gun. He rolls with heat 'cos he´s got a profile job and South America is serious business, a guy needs protection. And he´s paranoid. Later, over some Nescafé, I chatted breeze with the saucy aunt and her equally quippy friend, it was a gas. Here the custom is to be hospitable--think of the Italian mother you hear about in movies. You just eat everything they offer, say yes and thank you (please doesn´t get a chance, the food´s already in front of you). So they told me to look at the DVD collection and I nabbed 'Casablanca.' I actually haven´t seen that one yet. Tomorrow I'll be to lazy to go to the terminal, instead I'll overnight it to Foz do Iguaçu.

Nada que contar, amigos. Pensé en ir al terminal para irme de Asunción, pero mi seudo-tia me dijo que viniera a almorzar con la familia. Fui y estuvo rico, y después su hermano me trayó de una vuelta con historias de Asunción y una arma. El anda con fuego porque tiene un trabajo alto y Suramérica es serio, uno necesita protegerse. Y también tiene paranoia. Luego, tomando un Nescafé, mamé gallo con una tia viva y su propia amiga lista, me divertí. Aquí el costumbre es ser hospitalario, como las madres italianas de las peliculas. Solo hay que comer de todo que te ofrecen, decir si y gracias ('por favor' no sale porque la comida ya está). Entonces me dijeron que traera una pelicula de la colección, escogí 'Casablanca'. Todavía no la he visto. Mañana estaré flojo y no iré al terminal, creo que viajaré por la noche a Foz do Iguaçu.

south of the tropic of capricorn

Sorry no blog for a while, readers. Well, I'm alive and in Asunción, got in Tuesday night. Last you heard I was in Cochabamba, Bolivia, I think. Well, from there I overnight bused it to Santa Cruz, Bolivia where I was going to visit a Franciscan mission but it ended up being a 10-hr round trip bus ride. I don´t need to explain. So pleasant was the day spent in the Plaza 24, café-hopping and Brazilian food-eating. I fretted slightly about Paraguayan Visas, but don´t worry I´m Colombian and didn´t need one. Actually, worry, I'm Colombian. I was the only one to be searched at the border. I had to completely empty my bag while Captain A. Hol scraped things with a little screwdriver to see if by chance they were made of compacted blow. Then, after denying him a pair of sunglasses that were the object of his Subtle Bribery Innuendo he brought me into the bathroom to see if I had blow taped to my ribs. And that was while thawing out from the overnight Chaco bus ride that was kind enough to only give me a cold. And I had taken off my longjohns in Santa Cruz. Maldicion. Of course after our two provided meals of cold 'food' all passengers' bowel movements smelled the same. I don´t need to explain. The bus pulled in to Asuncion 23 hours after departure and I was hospitably met and chauffered by some friends of the family with whom I've been crashing. Thursday morning I took of four hours into the country to see my old friend Kate Stoysich who´s been Peace Corps volunteering there for almost 2 years(!) Good work, Kate. I was really proud to see her stick through it, she's Thoreau by any measure, chilling with locals and teaching them about proper field maintenance and other agricultural stuff and actually she has electricity. It was great being in the Middle of Nowhere, Paraguay and seeing someone I met three years ago and three thousand miles ago and sharing a day of simple living. The next day was Opposite day--one of the family's generation Xer's parties at Club Social; good food, good drink and a coupla crazy cousins who are good at yelling English expletives. Today nothing happened, oh, I went to a good museum. Might head to Foz do Iguacu tomorrow. Alright, I have to translate this.

Que pena de no haber escrito nada esos días. Pues, sigo viviendo y estoy aquí en Asunción, llegué el martes por la noche. De ultima para ti, estuve en Cochabamba, Bolivia, creo. De allí tomé el bus tras la noche a Santa Cruz, Bolivia donde iba para la misión Franciscana pero de ida y vuelta es 10 horas, no tengo que explicar. Entonces pasó el día encantado en la Plaza 24, tomando café y comiendo el buffet Brasileño. Me molestó de pensar un ratito de la Visa Paraguaya, pero no te preocupas, soy Colombiano y no la necesité. Actualmente, preocupate, soy Colombiano. Yo era el unico que revisaron completamente la mochila. Tuví que vaciarla mientras el Cpt. Culo rayó cosas con un destornillador para ver si eran hechos de cocaína. Después, lo negué su propuesto sútil de tomar prestadas unas gafas entonces me echó al baño para que viera si tenia contrabando pegado en el pecho con cinta. Y todo eso durante estaba descongelando del viaje Noche de Chaco que me dió gripa. Y quité la ropa termal en Santa Cruz, maldición. Claro que despues de las dos 'comidas' frias los pasajeros dejaron el mismo olor después del baño. No tengo que explicar. Llegamos a Asunción donde me encontraron unas amigas de la familia y me c'chaufieron' a la casa. Allí estoy quedando, son muy hospitalarias. El jueves fui cuatro horas en el bus en el campo para visitar a mi amiga Kate Stoysich, quien lleva casi dos años de ser voluntario en el Cuerpo de Paz. Bien hecho, Kate. Estoy orgulloso de ella por haberle quedado allá todo este tiempo, como fuera Thoreau, mostrando a los campesinos como mantener la tierra y otras cosas agriculturas. Pues, tiene electricidad. Pasó maravilloso estar en Otro Mundo, Paraguay con alguien quien conocí hace tres años y desde tres mil millas. El próximo día fue del opuesto, hubo una fiesta de cumpleaños de uno de los genaracion joven en el Club Social: comida buena, traguito bueno y primos locos que gritan porquerías Inglesas muy bien. Hoy no pasó nada, en exepto fui a un museo. De pronto iré mañana para Foz do Iguacú. Bueno, chao.

still in bolivia

Sorry no blog yesterday. I was in Cochabamba (not Churubamba...these Incan names start sounding like clucks after a while), got in at seven and headed to a plaza and found nothing. I had a 2 o'clock date with Francesco and his friends, since he had invited me to the city to meet his artist friend. I went to Mass...? Yes. I got some really good daydreaming in there, then went to a restaurant near the meeting point. After three hours of doodling and making to-do lists the three Fs, Francesco, Fernando and Frans picked me up and we went to a lakeside restaurant outside of town. After that they took us to an old pueblo half an hour away to walk around and take pictures. The car ride was stupendous, sunny and warm with a cool Andean breeze coming through the windows and every mile or so seeing a 114-yr-old guy riding a bicycle. Frans is a Spanish teacher and Fernando is a Spanish artist, like from Spain. He's started a collective project of artists, architects, designers, etc. from the area and they have an old meat plant building which they're rennovating into a theatre/kids thing/cafe/gallery/artist residency. I like. visit www.martadero.org for more. They won an installation competition with a project of 400 indigenous-style clay figures, one of which they gave me to take pictures of around the world, a la Amelie gnome. I got into Santa Cruz, Bolivia early this morning and have an 18-hr. bus ride to Asuncion at 8pm, just bumming around again. Finally took a shower, its being a cold one shows my desperation. I've got a place to stay in Asuncion.

Que pena de no haberte escrito ayer. Estuve en Cochabamba (no Churubamba, apenas las palabras Incas suenan como cluc cluc). Llegue a las siete y fui a una plaza y encontre nada. Tuvi cita con los F, Francesco, Fernando y Frans a las 2, Francesco me invito a la ciudad para que conociera a su amigo artista. Atende misa...? Si. Y de ser distraido fue bien. Luego fui a un restaurante cerca del sitio donde ibamos a encontrarnos. Despues de tres horas haciendo listas de quehaceres los Fs nos llavaron a un restaurante a lado de un lago. De alla fuimos a un pueblo viejo para tomar fotos y caminar. La chance en el carro fue espectacular. Estaba haciendo sol y un poco de calor, y una brisa Andina entraba las ventanas, cada milla vimos a un viejo de cien años montado en bicicleta. Frans enseña español y Fernado es un artista española. Fernando tiene un proyecto con otros artistas/arquitectos/diseñadores/etc. y tienen un complejo de edificios que antes habia una fabrica de carne. Ahora lo estan remodelando lo para que sea una galeria/teatro/cafe/residencia de artistas. Me gusta. Visita www.martadero.org para mas informacion. Ellos ganaron el premio de arte installacion con el proyecto de figuras Incas hechos de barro. Me regalaron uno para que yo tome fotos alrededor del mundo, al estilo del enano de Amelie. Llegue a Santa Cruz, Bolivia muy temprano, y el bus para Asuncion sale a las 8, mientras estoy andando en la plaza 24 de Septiembre. Finalmente me bañe, y de ser uno de agua fria muestra la desesperacion. Tengo donde quedarme en Asuncion.

Festival

Today is the Independence Festival in La Paz. So far I´ve watched about a half hour´s worth of the parade, which closely resembles February´s Carnaval parade in Barranquilla, Colombia. Bolivia has about a billion traditional dances, so this one might be a bit more colorful. Last night I was walking around with the Italian guy and we heard a military band playing in some building in the Plaza de Morillo so we went into the party of primly dressed elite and had a glass of wine amongst the rubbing shoulders. I bought a ticket for Churubamba(?) for tonight, I´ll see that tomorrow with the Italian guy then head to Asunción probably Sunday night. So, I have the afternoon free for the 28th time this month, I´ll go eat and shop around. The fashion here is actually on par, the old men wear suits and hats. Of course the youth tromp around with their walkmans and baggy shirts. I´d buy a jacket, but I bought one in Lima. I´d buy a hat, but I´m not at least 47 (the older the man, the better he looks in a hat). Until tomorrow...

Hoy es el Festival de la Independencia en La Paz. Vi media hora de la fila, que se parece a Carnaval en Barranquilla. Bolivia tiene como un millón de danzas, entonces esta seria un poco mas colorada. Anoche estaba andando con el Italiano y escuchamos una banda militar tocando en un edificio en la Plaza de Morillo entonces entramos el fiesta y encontramos una gente pupi. Tomamos una copa de vino entre los bien vestidos. Compré el boleto para Churubamba para esta noche, la veré mañana con el Italiano y despues iré para Asunción por la noche, probablamente. La moda aquí es de acuerdo, los viejos andan con vestido y gorra. Por supuesto los jovenes andan con sus walkmans y camisas grandes. Compraria una chaqueta, pero compré una en Lima. Compraria una gorra, pero no tengo por lo menos 47 años (lo mas viejo el viejo, lo mejor se ve con gorra). Hasta mañana...

Yesterday in Puno went well. I went on the half-day tour of the floating islands about 7 kilometers offshore of Lake Titicaca. In the afternoon I took the bus to La Paz which took awhile because it stops at the border for immigration stuff. I tried to bribe the stamp guy into letting me in with my American passport, but no dice. I´m gonna go to the US Embassy in Asunción to try to clear this up, if not, maybe I won´t be let in to my mother country, my source of quickly dwindling nationalism (if e'er I had it). Today in La Paz was great, I went walking around and to museums with Francesco, an Italian guy I met on the bus. I´m gonna stay until tomorrow because there is a folkloric dance thing that´s important, then on to Asunción on Sunday.

Ayér pasó bien en Puno. Tomé el tur de medio dia a las islas flotantes que quedan como 7 kilometros desde la costa del lago Titikaka. Por la tarde tomé el bus a La Paz que demoró porque para en la frontera para inmigración. Traté de pagar el tipo para que me dejara entrar Bolivia con el pasaporte Americano, pero no. Me voy a la embajada estadounidense en Asunción para rectificar la situación, sino, quizás no me podré entrar a el pais de nacimiento, la fuente de la patria peorando. Hoy fue tremendo, caminé y fui a tres museos con un Italiano que conocí en el bus. Quedaré hasta mañana porque hay un festival folklorico de mucha danza que es importante, y después a Asunción el domingo.

the Lake

Sorry no blog yesterday, mom. I was on the bus to Puno all day. GOtta run now because I´m taking a half-day tour of a Lake Titicaca floating island. After that is the bus to La Paz, with a stop at Copacabana for lunch and passport stamps. More later

I thought yesterday was Sunday, so today ended up being Tuesday and I went to Machu Picchu. TODAY. Just got back, and I´m satisfied. Satisfied to be back, you see it´s so touristy now that either one hikes four days on the Inca Trail (not worth it, don´t have the gear anyway) or you take a bus to Ollantaytambo then the train to Aguas Calientes then a bus or hour hike to the Picchu. Plus you're surrounded by Irish, English, French, German and Chilean and Gringo people. Being July 24th, I learned it is the (math)th anniversary of the re-discovery of the Picchu, the lauded Jon Bingam rests in peace. It was in 1911. So, though tourist-ridden, Machu Picchu still holds palpable history among the peaks, but I´m sure it´s lost its eery majesty like when that cat Bingam ran across it. Being a wonder of the world, I think, it´s pricey, but I figured ´when in Peru'...do as the gringoes do. I´m sure it gets worse every year, so better now than in twenty years when they´ve made it into a miniature golf course. Don´t think I´m nastily irreverent, I´m just worn out and don´t believe most of the far-fetched celestial rock-carving theories given by the tour guides. ''This granite has quartz in it and is carved in such a way to be aligned with the cardinal directions and absorbs power from the sun.'' Yeah, and it´s a rock, too. Tomorrow I´m going to Puno, then La Paz, unless lake Titicaca grabs me. I hear Bolivia´s cheap.

Pensé que ayer era el domingo, entonces hoy era martes, que significa que fui a Machu Picchu HOY. Acaba de volver, y estoy satisfecho. Satisfecho de estar regresado, porque ahora es tan turistica que solamente hay dos opciones para subir. Caminando por el Inca Trail (cuatro dias, no vale la pena, tampoco tengo la equipaje necesario), o tomar el bus hasta Ollantaytambo y luego el tren para Aguas Calientes y después caminando una hora o tomando otro bus. Además, esta llena de alemanes, gringos, franceses, irlandeses, ingleses, chilenos, etc. Como es el 24 de Julio, es el aniversario del re-descubrimiento del Picchu por Jon Bingam. Fue en 1911. Entonces, aúnque es bastante turistica, todavía tiene un sustancia historica y presencia entre las montañas, pero estoy seguro que no tiene la misma majestia rara como tuvo para Bingam el man ese. Siendo un maravillo del mundo, es caro. Pero cuando en Roma...haz que hacen los gringos. También estoy seguro que se peora cada año, entonces mejor ahora que en veinte años cuando lo habrán cambiado por un campo de golf miniatura. No piensen que estoy irreverente, solamente estoy cansado y no creo en lo que estaba diciendo el guia sobre las piedras trabajadas para que supieran in linea con las estrellas y las direcciones cardinales. ''Esa piedra de granito tiene quartzo y esta trabajada en una manera tal para que tome el poder del sol.'' Ajá, tambien es una piedra. Mañana me voy a Puno y La Paz en seguida, sino el lago Titikaka me llame la atención.

Pues

Still here in Cuzco. I think I ate some Suspect Chicken last night, because I was sick this morning. It´s smoothing out after some maté. Met a funny Brazilian woman at the movie place last night, we chatted about things. She´s like a grown-up nerd but funny in that dweeby sort of way. Two more days of stillness until I summit the Picchu. I might forgo Chile and just shoot over to Paraguay after Bolivia. That means I have to miss the Atacama Desert, which is unfortunate, plus endure a 30-plus hour bus ride on the Trans-Chaco Highway. I read that it isn´t exactly up to Department of Roads standards. The Chilean bus ride woulda been like 35 hours, anyway. This should save me a few days, maybe I´ll make it into Brazil after all.
Chao for now.

Todavía en Cusco. Creo que comí un pollo sospechoso anoche porque esta mañana estaba enfermo. Ya pasa después de un maté. Conocí a una Brasilera graciosa en la pelicula anoche y conversamos. Ellá es una nerda vieja pero muy chistosa en la manera de ser nerda. Dos días mas de quietud hasta que escala el Picchu. De pronto no iré a Chile, llegaré a Paraguay después de Bolivia. Eso signífica que perderé el desierto Atacama, y también aguantar el viaje en bus de 30 horas o mas por la carretera Trans-Chaco. Leo que no está en buena forma. El viaje a Chile hubiera sido como 35 horas. Ganaré unos días, después de todo llegaré hasta Brazil, quizás.
Chao for now.

I thought yesterday was Saturday. I´ve gained a day in life, but not much will happen with it, I´m afraid. I have a gorgeous laziness leftover from the lax Colombian coast, so I´ve been enjoying some movies, some terrace breakfasts and a top-5-ever steak last night at the Argentinian place. I´ve got to wait until Tuesday for my Machu Picchu tour, there were no spots left for Monday. So today is Saturday, I guess. There´s a museum nearby, hopefully better than the art exhibit I saw in Lima. It´s an Incan trinkets one, I think. Then I´ll watch Little Miss Sunshine in the bar thingy that plays movies (yesterday I watched Babel then stuck around for Borat). I´ve got a bus ticket for Puno, nestled on Lake Titicaca. I´ll be there Wednesday afternoon, maybe overnight. La Paz, Bolivia is nearby, I might just continue on (since I´ve ´lost´about a week from passport BS to spot-less Machu Picchu). More later...

Pensé que ayer era el sábado. Gané un dia mas en la vida, pero no va a pasar mucho, creo. Tengo una flojera bella que he traido de la costa Colombiana, entonces he disfrutado peliculas, desayunos en la terraza, un ´bife´espectacular en el restaurante Argentino. Tengo que esperar hasta el martes para el tur de Machu Picchu, no habian puestos para el lunes. Hoy es sábado. Hay un museo acá cerca, espero que será mejor que el exhibición de arte que ví en Lima. Es de vainas Incas, creo. Luego veré ´Pequeña Señorita Sunshine´en el bar que presenta peliculas. Ayer ví ´Babel´y ´Borat´. Tengo el boleto para Puno, que queda en el Lago Titikaka. Estaré allá el miércoles por la tarde, tal vez trasnocharé. La Paz, Bolivia esta cerca, de pronto continuaré (porque he ´perdido´como una semana de parte de la complicación del pasaporte, la falta de puesto para Machu Picchu). Mas viene...

I like Argentina and I´ve never been there.

Cuzco is almost like Cartagena except clean. Nice plazas, a billion tourists (aaaah!) churches and bars. Got a nice hostel on the hill overlooking la Plaza de Armas. Yesterday I walked around, almost went to a play but the poster looked really bad, plus I came across a choice Argentinian bar/restaurant. Pricey, but the atmosphere beats most things and ties with la Posada (both of 'em) over there in Lima. Two dudes who were mimicking Motorcycle Diaries came in with a guitar and played some classics, plus were really funny. Oh, funny people with guitars. Can´t wait to get home. Checked on Machu Picchu, gonna go Monday for the day tour then get on with my life because the Picch is kind of account-draining. Oh, and there´s a place that shows pirated movies on projectors, so I´m gonna catch 'Babel' this afternoon. And there are so many stores with great clothes here! Can´t buy. Mustn´t...buy...

Cuzco se parece a Cartagena, a menos que es limpia. Plazas lindas, un millón de turistas (¡no joda!) iglesias y bares. Tengo un hostal bueno que queda en la colina con vista de la Plaza de Armas. Ayer caminé, cási fui a una obra de teatro pero la promoción se vió mal, y luego encontré un bar-restaurante Argentino. Un poco caro, pero valió la pena con el ambiente, tan bueno como ambas Posadas allá en Lima. Dos tipos que estan copiando los Diarios Motocicletas entraron con una guitarra y empezaron de cantar unas clásicas, y también eran bastante graciosos. Averigué la vaina de Machu Picchu, me voy el lunes para el tur y después sigo bajando a Bolivia porque esa vaina come la ´money´. Encontré un sitio que presenta peliculas piratas con proyectores, entonces voy a ver 'Babel' por la tarde. ¡Y que culo de tiendas de la moda! Bacanas, pero no debo comprar...no debo...

Cuzco

Just got in to Cuzco after the 22 hours on bus. Not too bad, I did get a little dizzy last night and gagged a few times in the bathroom. Probably the quick change of altitude. The Peruvian Andes pretty much look like the Rockies in west Utah. I hear the bars are competitive for tourist attention and most offer the first drinks for free. Might do a little celebratin tonight. I´d blog longer, but I´m starving and need to find a hostel. Read about a good one with a balcony in an area where most of the streets are pedestrian only. Sounds nice.

Acaba de llegar a Cusco después de 22 horas en bus. No fue mal, pero me desmayé un poquito anoche y tenía ganas de vomitar en el baño. Probablemente fue el cambio de la altitud. Los Andes Peruvianos se parecen a los Rockies en el estado de Utah, en el oeste. He oido que los bares acá competen mucho para la atención de los turistas y lo de mas ofrecen los primeros tragos grátis. Quizás celebraré un poco esta noche. Escribiría más, pero estoy hambriento y necesito averiguar el hostal. Leí de un bueno con balcón en la area peatonal. Me suena bien.

leaving las lima

Well, my daily spending has been a bit excessive. Not exorbitantly, but a few dollars over a fake limit I made up in my head. Actually, I didn´t do that. But I sense I´ve spent too much. So last night was still, I dined on French bread and gouda cheese with some sangria. Cheese is expensive, so it was more than a restaurant would´ve been. I´m kind of a terrible economist. The bus to Cuzco leaves in a few hours. It winds through the Andes so I think it´s around 25 hours. That´s alright, because I haven´t read Moby Dick yet. Slept in today. I should get hotels without cable. Man, what a guilty pleasure.

Bueno pues, estoy gastando mas que iba a gastar por dia. No mucho, pero unos dolares mas que el limito falso que fabriqué en mi mente. Actualmente, no lo hicé. Pero me siento que he gastado demasiado. Entonces anoche fue quieto, comí pan frances con queso gouda y sangria. El queso es caro, fue mas que si hubiera comido en un restaurante. Soy un economista terrible. El bus para Cusco se va en dos horas. Va tras los Andes, creo que dura como 25 horas. Esta bien, todavia no he leido Moby Dick. Me levanté tarde esta mañana. Debo ir a hoteles sin cable. Hombre, que placer de culpa.

Lima not a lemon

I switched from hostel to hotel, the smartest thing I´ve done. Now I´m on the top floor with a balcony, and it´s one Peruvian sol cheaper than the wankpacker place. Last night I went to la Posada de Angel II, same bar different location, same atmosphere better guitar player. I bought him a drink and he repayed the favor with travel stories and jokes about the varying degrees of coldness between South American countrymen. Bogotanos won. I´ll soon find out. I was lazy this morning, like every morning, but today there was room service for me and I watched ´Election´on cable. Ate some good pesto spaghetti and better cafe con leche. Gonna check on Cuzco tickets for tomorrow (Lima has swooned me).

Me cambié de hostal a hotel, lo mas inteligente que he hecho. Ahora estoy en el ultimo piso con balcón, y cuesta un sol menos que el lugar de maricholero. Anoche fui a la Posada de Angel II, el mismo bar en otra ubicación, mismo ambiente y guitarista mejor. Le compré un trago y me pagó el favor con cuentos y bromas sobre los varios grados de frialdad entre paisanos suramericanos. Ganaron los cachacos. Pronto lo sabré. Tenía flojera esta mañana, como cada mañana, pero hoy hubo servicio de cuarto y miré la pelicula ´Election´en cable. Comí un espagueti de pesto bueno y tomé un café con leche mejor. Voy a averiguar las boletas a Cusco para mañana (Lima me ha enamorado).

I like

Lima. Turns out this place is really cloudy and gorgeous with such varied architecture I can´t help but do the tourist walk-and-gawk. I´m staying in the Barranco neighborhood which is a bit more historical but am switching hostels now becuase I actually heard two ´dudes´playing ping-pong say, ´Dude, I was so stoked, bro. F$%&, man, I just gotta f·"%%$ng shave and go out tonight, gotta date, man.´ Yeah, so I´m going now. I came to see Lima, not to listen to pothead snowboarder-types hang out in their faux-hipster natural environments.

Last night I went to a fantastic bar of dark wood and yellow light with acoustic guitar accompaniment and tasty pizza.

Lima. Resulta que este lugar es bastante nublado y lindo con estilos de arquitectura tan varios que estoy caminando y mirando como re-turista. Estoy quedando en el barrio Barranco que es un poco mas histórico pero voy a cambiar de hostal porque acaba de oir dos ´bacánes´ jugando ping-pong decir, ´Ey, estaba tan prendido, bacán. No joda, man, solamente tengo que afeitarme, no joda y salir, tengo cita, bacán, no joda.´ Pues, ya me voy. Llegué a Lima para verla, no para escuchar a marijuaneros snowboarder-tipos andar en sus propios ambientes de pseudo-hip.

out of iquitos

Passport successfully stamped today so I´m in Lima in between the ocean and the mountains. Nearly had to pay the departure tax a second time, didn´t, and then the immigration guy actually smiled. Today I cooked a good lunch; meat and angel hair al dente. Now I´m in an overly backpacker-oriented hostel full of people I don´t really have the ganas to meet. Tomorrow I have to check on how to get to Cuzco. Lima is pretty I think but it is dark out.

Hoy, al fin, estamparon el pasaporte entonces estoy en Lima entre el mar y las montañas. Casi tuve que pagar el impuesto de salida otravez, pero no, y despues el tipo de inmigración actualmente sonrió. Hoy cociné un buen almuerzo de carne y cabello de angel al dente. Ahora estoy en un hostal que es bastante orientado a mochileros lleno de gente que en realidad no tengo ganas de conocer. Manaña tengo que averiguar como llegar a Cusco. Creo que Lima es linda pero esta oscuro.

out of iquitos

Passport succesfully stamped today so I´m in Lima in between the ocean and the mountains. Nearly had to pay the departure tax a second time, didn´t, and then the immigration guy actually smiled. Today I cooked a good lunch; meat and angel hair al dente. Now I´m in an overly backpacker-oriented hostel full of people I don´t really have the ganas to meet. Tomorrow I have to check on how to get to Cuzco. Lima is pretty I think but it is dark out.

well,

I had to stay in Iquitos because I don´t have a Peruvian entry stamp on my passport, which technically makes me illegally here. But when I left from Santa Rosa (mud town right after Leticia) it was 8 at night and no indication of an immigration office amongst the stick houses and dirty scrap lumber. I tried to get on the plane to Lima last night but was stymied by the passport checker who unflinchingly told me to wait until Monday when Immigration would open. Fabulous. Peeved arguing did no good, rules are rules and rule enforcers are really annoying. So I´m in a nice hostel showering, making breakfast, reading, listening to rain, waiting. Lima's probably dumb anyway. See you tomorrow.

Tuví que quedarme en Iquitos porque no tengo el ensallo de Peru en el pasaporte, técnicamente estoy aquí ilegalmente. Pero cuando me fuí de Santa Rosa (pueblo de barro después de Leticia) era las 8 de la noche y no había una oficina de imigración entre las casas de palos y madera sucia. Intenté de subir el avion para Lima anoche, pero no pudí porque el señor de imigración me dijo que tenía que esperar hasta el lunes para que la oficina abriera y pudieran ensallar el pasaporte. Fabuloso. Discutiendo no hizo nada, reglas son reglas y trabajadores bajo reglas me molestan. Entonces estoy en un hostal muy agradable, bañandome, cocinando, leyendo, escuchando la llúvia, esperando. De todas maneras, me imagino que Lima es harta. Nos vemos mañana.

what is the smell

that is me. okay, i have low hygiene standards, but i just got off an amazon cargo boat after three nights/two days and sub-sub-standard food supplemented by godsend SaltinNoel brand saltines and borderline delicious (considering) tuna and I need a shower. Now I´m in Iquitos, Peru. Boat disembarcation was borderline frightening because it was about 5am and still dark and wow I like the numbers of this font. 1984. Cool. I went to the airport in a moto-rickshaw, waited for AeroCondor to open and learned tickets to Lima were half as much if bought in el Centro for the 6pm flight. So I´m in Iquitos and just want to go to Lima becuase Iquitos isn´t that great. I feel like s···, I smell like s···, and then I stepped in s···. I gave a park bum a gallon of water after bathing my shoe in a puddle. Oh, I´d take a bus...maybe...but Iquitos´
piece-d-resistance is that it is the world´s largest city without roadlinks. Silly Jesuits, streets are for kids.

Que huele? Yo. Bueno, tengo estandares bajos de higiene, pero acaba de desembarcar la lancha de leticia y después de tres noches/dos dias y comida fea suplementada por SaltinNoel y atún cási delicioso, necesito bañarme. Ahora estoy en Iquitos, Peru. En la desembarcada tenía un poco de miedo porque todavía estaba oscuro a las 5 de la mañana y los numeros de esta fuente son bacanos. 1984. Bacano. Fui al aeropuerto en un mototaxi de tres ruedas, esperé para que AeroCondor abriera y dijeron que las boletas eran menos costoso si las compras en el Centro para el vuelo de las 6 (hasta Lima). Iquitos no es tan bacana. Huelo mierda, Me siento como mierda, pisé en mierda. Dí un galón de agua a un gamín despues de bañar el zapato en un puddle. Yo tomaría el bus, quizás, pero la pie-d-resistance de Iquitos es que es la ciudad mas grande del mundo sín carreteras a otros lugares. Jesuitas bobos.

chao-cito

Alright, I´ve got fourteen minutes of internet to flow this thing. The casa familiar I´m staying at here in Leticia is run by an old ex-sailor hipster into philosophy, literature and controlling the flow of conversation. Regardless, he´s a decent guide and knows the good stuff. I told him I wanted an overnight jungle tour, so the next day we (Gustavo the Guide, Konstaninos the Greek Guy and myself) took a bus out of town until kilometer 11 and hiked into the roadside forest (pictures available someday). Inside of two hours we arrived to the campsite set in a large clearing bordered on three sides by the winding Atacama river. A quiant building of three rooms and four stilts sat in the center. Jorge, a fourth grader at some pathetic school was an unofficial shadow with plenty of camping savvy since his life is ultimately camping there with his family. His dad caught five fish for us, two regular thingies, a Pero and a piranha. Later some guy came along and offered us caiman, so yes, I ate bonfired caiman and it was delicious though illegal I think. We sat around an swam in the river which maybe had scary creatures but was very refreshing and boiled some water for tea and I haven´t gotten Dengue fever yet. Jorge and I walked around a little at night which was scary, but if the jungle senses fear something will bite you so I steeled myself. Spiders´eyes reflect a bluish light from the flashlight, so Jorge´s machete knew where to strike. Later we went in the canoe, Jorge and I. I rowed, and with his machete he scalped four-inch fish with sublime accuracy. Ta! just a little of the top. The next day we had some amazing jungle grapes and pineapple, hiked out and that night we went to Brazil (!) to watch the Brazil-Uruguay semifinals and drink caipiriñas. There´s an open border here, it´s only after a while in a larger city were one must do passport business. I didn´t get the boat to Iquitos, so I´m going tonight. LATERZ.

jungle boogie

Today I awoke to motorcyles, roosters and Cuban music. The hotel guy/tour guide has arranged a jungle trip for us today and we´re staying the night tonight in an indigenous village. Some hiking will be involved. Depending on when we get back, I´ll blog tomorrow or take the boat to Iquitos.

Hoy me levanté con el ruido de motos, gallos y música Cubana. El guia ha arreglado un mini-tur en la selva y esta noche quedarémonos en un pueblo de indigenas. Para llegar, hay que caminar en la selva. Manaña, depende de cuando llegamos, escribo en el blog o tomo la lancha a Iquitos.

touchdown

I´ll go for two. Leticia isn´t too hot. Looks like rain, though. It´s a rainforest. Found a good spot to stay for the night. The other dude who´s staying here comes to bask in the jungle´s indigenous culture and take a three-day cleansing thingy with this drug plant one eats with proper shaman guidance. Sounds interesting, but I think I´ll just take a boat to Peru. Cargo boats leave at seven every evening and take three days to Iquitos. I could take a rapido and get there in ten hours, but that´s boring. Less boring than a slow, stanky barge?

Está como fresquito acá. Tiene ganas de llover. Es una selva. Encontré una casa familiar donde puedo quedarme. El ótro tipo que esta quedando viene para disfrutar de la cultura indigena de la selva y tomar una limpieza del cuerpo durante tres dias por una droga que uno come bajo la lección del shaman. Me parece interesante, pero voy a tomar la lancha hasta Iquitos. Las lanchas de carga salen a las siete cada noche y demoran tres dias para llegar. Podría tomar un rapido y llegar en diez horas, pero eso es aburrido. ¿Menos que un barco lento y putrido?

Still in Bogota. Only sleeping and eating, although I had an envious wednesday and thursday in which I went to the country club for some turkish bath. That soaked in, since I´m not anticipating any luxury for the coming month (years). My only dilemma is whether or not to bring backpacking this suit I have with me. I won´t need it, but I´d hate to part ways. I can´t sacrifice my second-hand thrice-repaired favorite Italian leather shoes to the trail. I´ll carry that weight to the grave.

Listen to me. Rich man/poor man.

Versión Español for friends/family/friends of the family...(godspeed)

Todavía estoy en Bogota. Solamente durmiendo y comiendo, aúnque tuvi unos dias envidiables en que fui al club para meterme en turco. Esto firmó porque no estoy anticipando ningún lujo para el mes (o años) que vienen. La unica dilema que tengo es si valdría la pena llevar mochilando conmigo unos vestidos. No lo necesitaré, tampoco quiero dejarlo. No puedo sacrificar mis favoritos zapatos usados que tienen el cuero Italiano arreglado tres veces. Los llevaré hasta el tumbo. Escucheme, sueno como hombre rico/hombre pobre.

Well, that's over.

yeeah. I'm back in Bogota after a six-month tour where action on the front wasn't too deadly. I was teaching English (think noun clause as direct object, not Faulkner as direct influence) to the lovely lazy young adults of the Colombian Caribbean coast. Lowdown:

January: no friends, no money, observed classes for a while, I think I rented a movie. Actually, the first week I went on a lovely family trip along the coast up to la Guajira, near Venezuela. There are some pics of that on fotki.com, search 'The Southern Continent' or 'brent meier' or something.
February: 10 hours a day of teaching, afternoons across town in the school's other branch (the dirty east, trust me). After work I was scared to wait for the bus because people get robbed here, plus a week into February two Italians got capped not far from my apt. That wasn't cool and I wanted to leave. But I settled down.
March: March was alright.
April: Hello, Latin America. Oh, I get a week off? We (sister and friend named Pav) went to Medellin and Manizales. Best thing I did in those six months was leave for a vacation. Lots of pretty girls in classes. Being a native English speaker somehow qualifies for University Professor status, so I taught an American Civilization course at the Universidad SanBuenaventura. It was alright. The other side of the desk lets one know the regret of being the same pain in the ass to former teachers as my students were to me. Disinterested lazies. I learned hindsight.
May: Wow, that was quick. Hey, I met some cool people, started strumming some guitar outside of the projects where my sister lived, hanging out in the coffee shop, blah blah.
June: I don't even remember the first two weeks. The routine had me whipped and I'd just drink Aguila beer on the weekends. The last two weeks were brilliant. Safe (British for cool) friends, neat bars, coupla 'despedidas' (farewell parties), I personally had a Despedida Week. I am still tired from that.
July: These entries are painfully brief. If you wanna know about the culture or wanna hear some anecdotes, ask me.
July: First few days in Bogota with some family, mooching room and board and more board. Saved up a decent travel purse, thanks to crazy Colombian job benefits. I got a half-month's salary bonus plus a liquidacion, which I still don't understand but it was a full month's pay. Thank you dual citizenship. Plans, i.e. Reason for blog: I'm gonna backpack for a while, this thing is so you know the answers to the W questions.

Where: Peru, Machu Picchu, Bolivia, Chile, Buenos Aires, Brasil I think. I'm open.
When: I'll come back, don't worry.